


green fairy

by anthropologicalhands



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Conversations, Gen, No one gets drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: Ryder and Sloane try for a few moments of civility.





	green fairy

Every month, Sloane invites Ryder to Kadara for drinks.

The invitations probably aren’t meant to be accepted – Sloane sends the messages as a good-faith gesture for open communication, not out of a desire for Ryder’s company.

Ryder accepts anyways. She has a grudging respect for the other woman, both for her good word and for how, slowly but steadily, Sloane is starting to loosen her iron fist.

Her team would accompany her in a heartbeat if asked, but Ryder knows that Sloane’s trust is already stretched thin between accommodating the Pathfinder and Christmas Tate; she won’t push it.

Jaal, his distaste for Kadara unrelenting, still insists on accompanying her to the door of the Outcast headquarters.

“I don’t like that you choose to go in there alone,” he says, low in her ear. His affections may be loud but his fear is quiet, the depth of it translated only through the pulse that electrifies her skin when his hand brushes her shoulder.

“I’ll call for you if I need it,” she tells him, both exasperated and touched. “Don’t worry about me. Sloane doesn’t like a mess, and killing the Pathfinder _definitely_ qualifies as a mess.”

Jaal’s face gives her a look that says that reason is horseshit. But Ryder isn’t afraid– as far as she can tell, Sloane would rather be left alone than anything else. She barely has time to enjoy a party, let alone a war.

Maybe that is why she invites Ryder to these gatherings. Kaetus is fresh off bedrest and more determined than ever to circumvent potential threats. She seems to get along with Keema well enough, but the angara tended to mingle, gathering intel and feeling the mood of the room. Umi is always at the bar, and the other Outcasts usually just soused beyond common sense.

The “drinks” part ends up being a joke, since neither of them have any alcohol. Sloane has a personal flask she sips from, while Ryder is given an angaran fruit juice that Umi promises won’t kill her –probably.

They don’t talk much either– Sloane slouches in her throne, answering any questions brought forth to her with only the barest scrapings of civility. Ryder, perched on some chair some scowling Outcast lieutenant dragged up for her, feels redundant, like a prized parrot. She amuses herself by people watching and making faces at Kaetus whenever she can get away with it. He’ll probably threaten to kill her, but she’s certain it will only be a half-serious threat. They’re growing on each other.

“How is your outpost faring?” Sloane asks abruptly. Ryder doesn’t notice at that Sloane was speaking to her, the way she is looking straight into the crowd, only catching on when Kaetus makes eye contact and his mandibles flicker, as if to say, _yes, she’s talking to_ you, _moron_.

She definitely is growing on him.

“Surprisingly well, all things considered,” she says at last, for Sloane looks annoyed that she hadn’t responded right away. “Things are running smoothly. Christmas said you had something to do with it?”

“We have a deal.” Was that a smile? Ryder tries to get a better look, but it is gone as soon as it was spotted. “The Initiative doesn’t interfere with me, I don’t interfere with them.”

“Some of the exiles have rejoined us, too,” probes Ryder. “Some of them were former Outcasts. Will that be a problem? I need to know if it’s going to be a problem.”

Sloane rolls her eyes. “I don’t have time for that kind of grudge, Ryder. If your people take care of it, it’s their business. And my people give notice. They even handed in resignation letters, not that I have any place to file them.”

Ryder watches Sloane carefully. She doesn’t sound any surlier than usual, but…

“You’re not mad?”

“If the lost boys want to return to England, I bloody well won’t stop them.”

That’s a classical reference Ryder didn’t expect to ever hear again. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a _Peter Pan_ fan.”

Sloane grimaces, as if she bit a lemon. “I wasn’t. But I grew up on Earth. They can’t shut up about him. You know how it is.”

Ryder nods. She’s a Citadel kid. Some stories just follow their people wherever they go.

“I wouldn’t call Kadara a Neverland, though,” she says, in lieu of taking another sip.

“That’s probably for the best. It would probably make _you_ Wendy.”

Ryder pulls a face, and Sloane turns briefly away, hiding a smirk.

“Riiiight. Can I suggest Christmas, instead? He’s way more nurturing.”

Sloane smiles, a flash of teeth that is gone in a blink. It’s a warmer smile than she expected, and Ryder’s inborn impishness rises back up again.

_Guess Kaetus would be Tinkerbell, then._

It is only when Sloane chokes on the draft she takes from her flask that Ryder realizes she voiced that stray thought aloud.

Sloane is staring right at Kaetus now, face is twisted in horrified fascination, and a picture of Kaetus in the Disney dress and sparkly wings pops right into Ryder’s mind’s eye.

She falls right off her stool, she’s laughing so hard.

To no one’s surprise, Ryder receives an emergency call less than two minutes later and is politely-but-firmly escorted out of headquarters.

* * *

 

To: Ryder  
From: Sloane Kelly  
Subject: [EXPLETIVE DELETED] Green Fairies

_Ryder,_

_This is YOUR fault. Do you do this to everyone you come across? Fill their head with idiotic ideas?_

_I haven’t been able to look Kaetus in the eye for two days. If I can’t persuade him otherwise, his damned mother hen instinct will go into overdrive and he_ will _call fucking Nakamoto._

_~~I keep imagining the outfit. The fucking green is the~~ _ ~~exact _same shade—_~~

_Anyways, if you’re foolish enough to show your face here again, the only green fairy we’ll be talking about is the kind that comes in a bottle. Yes, some brilliant soul brought absinthe to Andromeda, go figure. Come by when you aren’t playing fetch for the Initiative and we’ll split it._

_If you must say ridiculous things, you should at least be properly drunk for it._

_-Sloane_


End file.
